


Warmth

by nappingapparition



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Drabbles, M/M, it's hella fluffy, oh might i include this is implied humanstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-21
Updated: 2014-11-21
Packaged: 2018-02-26 10:52:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2649308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nappingapparition/pseuds/nappingapparition
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Sollux, I had a nightmare,” the other mumbles right the hell back - ah, he was right. Arms tightening around the other frame, which is relatively thin compared to himself, he sniffles and nuzzles against the chest that his face has met with. “You died. I died. We all died.” Short, simple. He’d explained it before, and the other had heard it before. Frankly, he doesn't want to waste any more breaths on the words they both know are going to come, so he keeps his eyes shut with his arms around Sollux’s waist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first thing on here and i didn't even edit it
> 
> oh well //hits post button

     There’s a rustle amongst the sheets that echoes, muffled around the room. The cause of that rustle sniffles and shifts around in bed, arm twisting underneath the linen sheets to reach for the nearest warmth; the only other person in bed with him. When his fingers touch the bare skin of his boyfriend’s forearm, they wrap around the thin, pale limb before pulling him in closer. There’s a soft noise emitting from said boyfriend when he rouses awake, but he turns his body towards the (soft, very soft and warm) cause of the rustle as he throws his other arm, the one that hasn’t been claimed yet, around the darker boy.

     Even with his eyes closed, he knows what the scene must look like; the difference of their skin tone contrasting, even underneath the weak moonlight streaming in, filtered by the boring thin beige curtains; the covers and blankets (blankets as in plural. Plural on behalf of his beloved rustle-causer insisting that they needed more than one) about as tangled and messy as the smaller one’s nest of hair; the other’s clothes askew, too big to fit his small boy’s frame (oh, right, because it isn’t his clothes, it’s his boyfriend’s).

     “K.K., what’s up?” he mumbles - slurs, and lisps, all at the same time - sleepily.

     What he can’t draw with his imagination, he sees with his other senses; he can feel Karkat’s small, but pudgy, hand, fingers gripping onto his skin - warm to the touch, but cold under the skin. He can hear his own steady breathing - yes, that’s his: Karkat’s is more laboured. Probably had a bad dream and woke himself up.

     Another thing he feels is the small fingers letting go of his arm as the boy himself scoots up closer to the other source of warmth- his boyfriend, he vaguely recognizes again - another person to relish the warmth in, since the rest of the room seems to be so, so cold. Following that logic, he throws his arms right around the warmth, the vaguely recognized boyfriend, the only other person in the room to be warm with, whom happens to be Sollux.

     The last thing the vaguely recognized boyfriend feels, tacked onto the butt of the list, is a soft face pressing against his bare chest and warm breaths puffing against his skin, which sends an unintentional shiver down his back.

     “Sollux, I had a nightmare,” the other mumbles right the hell back - ah, he was right. Arms tightening around the other frame, which is relatively thin compared to himself, he sniffles and nuzzles against the chest that his face has met with. “You died. I died. We all died.” Short, simple. He’d explained it before, and the other had heard it before. Frankly, he doesn’t want to waste any more breaths on the words they both know are going to come, so he keeps his eyes shut with his arms around Sollux’s waist. The contact is a warm reminder pinned up on a board. HEY, DIPSHIT, HE’S ALIVE, AND SO IS EVERYBODY ELSE. THEY’RE ALIVE. HE’S ALIVE. YOU’RE ALIVE.

     And Sollux knows. Being tired, his movement is slowed down, but that doesn’t drain any of the sincerity out of it; he ducks his head down and plants a short kiss to the top of Karkat’s hair, which just ends up being lost in his hair. But hell if he cares. Hell if either of them cares; it’s just more reassurance-fuel to Karkat. He upturns his face to meet the other’s, connecting their lips for a sweet moment. He likes contact with Sollux. It reminds him that they're both there, they exist. They're real. They're alive. Dry and fluffy: that’s all it is, and he resituates his body at a more convenient angle to keep it like that. One leg hooked around Sollux, knee bending at the stretch of his hip, arms moving up around the area of his deltoids. He feels Sollux’s hand moving down to loosely drape around his waist, the other lazily tracing lines and shapes over his spine.

     They part, before kissing again.

     Slowly; softly; chastely.

     Part.

     Repeat.

     However many times it happens is lost on them - they’re both half asleep and would both swallow a bullet before they would start keeping count - but at the end of it, Sollux presses a final kiss to the edge of Karkat’s lips, which marks the end of it. ii’m tiired let’2 go back two 2leep.

     And Karkat knows. Even without hearing the words, he backs down, but stays in the same position they’re in; it’s comfortable. As if he could fall asleep just like that.

     So he does.


End file.
